


I'll Carry You To Safety

by BlaiddGwyn (dragonLeighs)



Series: Whumptober 2020 [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Carrying, Exhaustion, Gen, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Injured Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Poisoning, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26877052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonLeighs/pseuds/BlaiddGwyn
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are ambushed by an archespore on the road. The good news is neither of them are seriously hurt. The bad news is that Jaskier is slowly succumbing to its poison.Written for Whumptober 2020
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Whumptober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947397
Comments: 4
Kudos: 139
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	I'll Carry You To Safety

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely can't believe I've already posted a whole week for whumptober!
> 
> Today's whumptober prompts from day 7 are "carrying" and "support".
> 
> I don't know how accurate my depiction of archespore poison is exactly. I was working off the wiki since all I know from playing the game is that they're a bitch to fight.

The wound wasn’t bad. Sure, it felt like his leg was burning, but he’d certainly had worse during his time on the Path with Geralt. The archespore had spat its sticky poison at him, ambushing them from the side of the road. Geralt had sensed it in time to push him back. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite enough as instead of hitting him square in the chest, the poison had landed on his thigh. It stang his skin through the material of his trousers, but didn’t seem to cause too much damage.

Geralt had darted off into the trees to deal with the hideous plant, making short work of it by getting a lucky blow early on and severing the flower part from the stem. He rushed back to Jaskier, who had fallen to the ground after Geralt shoved him. His hands were hovering uselessly above the injury, torn between trying to wipe some of the poison away and not wanting to hurt his hands in doing so.

“Did you touch it?” Geralt said, unsheathing a knife.

“No. Wh-what are you doing?” the bard asked, wary of what the witcher was planning.

“I need to cut your trousers off. Pulling them off would only spread the venom.”

“But-“

“They’re already ruined Jaskier. It’s this or a potentially massive scar.”

That shut him up. He managed to stay still as Geralt cut through the fabric, first working around where the venom has soaked through. He slowly pulled it away, the surprisingly sticky substance acting as a glue between the fabric and his skin. He sucked in a breath as it tore at his blistering skin, before cutting the rest of it away. Jaskier felt rather foolish with only one trouser leg but in the middle of the woods, it was hardly a priority.

The skin where the venom had landed was red and blistering in places. Geralt uncapped his waterskin and poured the contents over the area. The burning sensation spiked momentarily before being relieved by the cool sensation of the water running over his overheated skin.

“How do you feel?” Geralt asked as he checked he’d gotten rid of the remaining poison.

“Well, it hurts like a bitch but otherwise fine I guess.”

“Hmm, you might make it back then,” he said as he cut up what was left of Jaskier's trouser leg to make a makeshift bandage.

“Back? Am I going to die?”

“No. That archespore wasn’t mature. A single dose of poison won’t be enough to kill you, but the poison drains the victim’s energy. You will pass out in the next hour or so,” he stated calmly as he carefully dried and wrapped the wound.

“I’m going to pass out?”

“Hmm.”

“Well, thank you for that reassuring pep talk. I feel so much better,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m letting you know what’s going to happen.” He stood back up and held out his hand to help the bard up. “I’d like to get back to camp before that happens, if you can manage.”

“Well, I’ll certainly try my best,” he said with an edge of derision. He took the offered hand and pulled himself to his feet. It hurt to stand but he was sure he could manage. At least for a while.

They set off back the way they had come. Roach had been left in a clearing about forty minutes away. They, or rather Geralt, had been contracted to hunt down a leshen, but so far they had found no evidence of one living nearby and had begun to think the whole thing was a wild goose chase.

In theory, they would have plenty of time to reach their camp. That would be if Jaskier wasn’t limping, slowing them down. The first few minutes of walking weren’t too bad, the pain in his leg causing him to limp only slightly. After about ten minutes however, he was finding it more difficult to bear weight on it, forcing him to take smaller steps and leaning more heavily on trees as he passed them.

Geralt had wandered off ahead, seemingly not noticing the bard’s distress. Jaskier was about to call out to him when he turned around anyway. He headed back toward him and without a word hooked his arm around his waist, offering his support. Jaskier accepted gratefully, placing his own arm across the witcher’s shoulders. This worked well for the next few minutes but Geralt found the bard slowly leaning more of his weight against him.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Mm, yeah. Just a bit tired." He seemed to mentally shake himself awake, leaning slightly less on Geralt. "Still hurts like a bitch.” 

“That would be the poison. Shit, we’ve got less time than I thought.”

“I can keep going,” Jaskier said.

“For now,” he muttered under his breath.

To be fair to the bard, he did manage the next fifteen minutes or so before Geralt stopped them briefly.

“What’s wrong, Geralt?” Jaskier asked.

“You can’t keep going like this.”

“I’m fine.”

“You had your eyes closed for the past two minutes while I practically dragged you along. No, you’re not.”

“Oh.”

Without another word, Geralt adjusted his hold on Jaskier who would definitely keel over if he let him go at this point. He kept one hand on his back as he leant down and placed his other arm under his knees, lifting him in a bridal carry. It wasn’t the most practical hold and meant he wouldn’t be able to get to his sword of they were attacked again but throwing him over his shoulder would put pressure on his injury and he was reluctant to hurt the bard.

Jaskier made no move to protest his new position which worried the witcher more than he cared to say. Jaskier was never quiet, not even when he was badly injured or ill. He began to worry that the archespore wasn’t as young as he had originally suspected and that Jaskier’s life was indeed at risk. Not that he told him that. The last thing he needed was the bard panicking. He knew he had the antidote in his saddlebags. They just had to get to Roach.

Now that Jaskier was in his arms, their progress was much faster. Jaskier’s eyes slipped closed at some point and despite several attempts to rouse him, he did not wake. Geralt told himself he would wake once he got the antidote, but the slightly less rational part of him didn’t seem to want to listen.

Finally, they arrived back at camp. Roach was grazing on a patch of grass nearby, still tied to a branch. He lay Jaskier down next to their packs before rummaging for his potions bag. If it were him who had been poisoned, he would simply take a golden oriole. But witcher potions were deadly to humans, even the one designed to neutralise toxicity. So, he had done some research a few years ago for human safe alternatives and antivenoms. He had made sure to keep a few handy in case something like this ever happened.

He pulled out the small vial, uncorking it and carefully pouring it into Jaskier’s mouth to avoid him choking on the cloudy liquid. He swallowed reflexively and Geralt held his breath. After what felt like eternity, Jaskier groaned before cracking his eyes open.

“Geralt?” he murmured, groggy from the toxins still in his system.

Geralt let out the breath he’d been holding, relief washing over him. “You’re alright. Just rest now.”

Jaskier hummed before letting his eyes slip closed again. Geralt set up his bedroll before moving the bard onto it. He cleaned the wound again and applied a healing salve before bandaging it properly and tucking the bard under his blanket. Jaskier would be fine, they got lucky this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!](https://blaidd-gwyn.tumblr.com/)


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